


Salt & Pepper

by mcmachine



Series: Meant To Be [8]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Aging, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: Jackson is feeling a little insecure about his grey hair and decides he wants to get a motorcycle to feel younger. April gets mad because of how dangerous they are and finds a way to talk him out of it.





	Salt & Pepper

**_ JACKSON _ **

If April knew that I was here, I was pretty sure that she would kill me.

She had always been clear how she felt about motorcycles. They were death traps. I doubted she could count just how many people she had come into the emergency room in terrible condition or simply DOA after an accident on a motorcycle, with or without a helmet. Even if a helmet could help here and there for certain injuries, there was only so much that could really be prevented when it came to a car versus a motorcycle.

And yet, here I was at a dealership, checking out some of the different ones that they had. I hadn't ridden on one since I was a teenager – it had been a friend's, I had been rebelling against my mother, and that was all there was to it. It hadn't been out of genuine interest.

Even though I wasn't that young of a father, I had been thirty-five when Harriet was born, someone my little girl had been the one to really make me feel like an old man. I had begun to let some of my beard grow out again for the winter, knowing that it was the only time of the year that my wife might let me get away with it without too much harassment. Harriet was talking up a storm these days, always throwing in her input whenever she had the chance. And, well, when she probably should not have. It's cute when it's her, at least. If anyone else in the world had made the comment, there would have been significantly more annoyance.

"Daddy's beard go white!"

The shout had earned nearly hysterical laughter from April. There was no denying that there had been some salt and pepper appearing in my beard and on top of my head. It happened to be more noticeable on my face than it was on the hair on my head – at least to her, given that she didn't exactly have the chance to see the top of my head.

So my little girl might have been the cause of a little mid-life crisis on my end. Everyone went through them at some point or another. Men bought sports cars, cheated on their lives, starting acting like a teenager again, or some other cliché. I could have gone for something much worse, that much was clear, even if perhaps this was acting like a teenager just a little bit. Hopefully, April wouldn't point that out, though. That might have been a stretch of optimism.

Her voice going back and forth in my head was the only thing to keep me from making an impulse purchase. Maybe now was also the time that I should have paused and taken a little more consideration before making any big purchases with the family money more or less gone or in Harriet's name. There was no way I would tap into her stuff, after all. I could still afford it – April and I brought home more than enough money for that on both of our salaries, of course, and I'd made some reasonable decisions with selling the boat and ridiculous car I had bought. Hell, those purchases were probably more descriptive of a mid-life crisis than this one would be.

That didn't stop the thoughts as I drove home, though, they continued to swirl around in my head. I needed something to feel young again. I didn't want to turn into a boring dad, wearing khakis and thinking about the best way to clean out the gutters on the house.

When I got home, Harriet was sitting in her playpen in the living room banging around with one of her toys, and April was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"Hey," I greeted her with a smile, setting down my keys and wallet on the counter. "Smells good."

"Thanks," April smiled, meeting me for a quick kiss as I walked over.

"What are you making?" I asked.

"Chicken stir-fry," she answered, moving back over to the stove so that she could stir the chicken and vegetables cooking inside of the pan. I stared at her for a moment, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Alright. I'm gonna be in my office." My announcement was a little more sudden than what I intended, turning on my heel sharply and heading back to it.

Being short with her wasn't my intention – but I was still feeling a little sour. Maybe I was getting old. I certainly looked like I was getting old. I wasn't as fit as I had once been in my younger years, I'd thickened just about everywhere. April had never complained about it. She'd made comments about her own weight once or twice after giving birth to our daughter, and I had hardly noticed it on her. In part, because of the lack of a relationship we had at a time, but even after Samuel's birth, I hadn't really noticed. But I definitely noticed it on myself.

Today's mail was on my desk and I grabbed it to sift through it for a moment. Most of it was just spam or advertisements, a few paper copies of the bills that I always paid online. We had both put together a spreadsheet to make sure that everyone was taken care of and paid on time.

I was definitely getting boring with my old age. That seemed like it was impossible to ignore. Bills and maintaining the house had taken over a lot of the things that we used to do. Maybe we had never had a lot of time after work, and that had certainly become even less since we had brought Harriet home with us, but this just felt like something different. I was getting older and I was looking older.

April's voice calling out broke my thoughts. "Dinner's ready!"

A sigh pushed through my nose and I shut my laptop, getting up from behind the desk to head back to the kitchen. I hadn't told April about where I had gone yet today. I had gone in for work initially. There hadn't been much to do for the patient other than clean debris and hope that time would make it a bit better. The extra time had been spent doing what I knew she wouldn't approve of. In hindsight, the sneaking around did make it sound a little worse.

Once all of us had our own plates of food set up and Harriet was settled in her high chair, I couldn't find it in myself to be talkative. It shouldn't have surprised me when she finally decided to call me out about it.

"What's wrong, Jackson? You've barely said a word since you got home." April asked.

"Nothing's wrong," I brushed off with a shake of my head, shoving a mouthful of food down my throat to quickly give an excuse for not talking. If there was food in my mouth, it was a little easier to excuse.

It was obvious from the expression on her face that she didn't believe a word coming out of her mouth. I couldn't be annoyed with that. She was always pretty in tune with reading the people around her and I was far from subtle whenever I was in a bad mood, even if I did try and hide it. She was difficult to lie to about anything.

Harriet was lively enough to keep her distracted for the duration of the meal, to my relief. I hadn't decided if I really wanted to tell her. It was something that should have been easy enough to get over. It was just a little gray hair, theoretically.

The majority of the noise and chatter made throughout the meal was courtesy of Harriet. Neither of us really minded. We both encouraged her to talk as much as she could, and she was coming in just a little ahead of most girls her age, something that we were both proud of. There was a bit of a genetic component to intelligence, and it seemed like she had gotten the best both worlds coming from the two of us. We were both incredibly proud of her.

But there was only so much that I could do to try and put off the conversation. I returned to my office after the meal and she got Harriet ready for bed – giving her a bath and reading her a book once she was changed into her pajamas, tucking her in for the night. We no longer worried about her waking up in the middle of it. It had been awhile since that had happened.

It had also admittedly been awhile since I had avoided talking to her about what was going on inside of my head. She was always accepting about whatever it is was and made herself easy and available to talk to. The only wall between me and talking to her was myself. That was the way that it always seemed to go. It was both a good and bad thing, of course. The fault of the bad just happened to rest of my shoulders alone. But I know when it's time to pack it up and head to bed, even if I do put it off just a little longer by moving past her and jumping into the shower.

Drying off slowly, I took my time just for the sake of the clock ticking by. But eventually, I walked back out into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my waist, going to the dresser to grab a pair of clean boxers.

"So I let you off the hook at dinner, but now are you going to tell me what's wrong?" April asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, grabbing the underwear and shutting the drawer before leaning back against it.

"Jackson, come on…" There was a soft whine in her voice. "What's going on?"

I sighed. "Do you want to know what I did today?"

"Of course I do," she answered quickly.

"I went and looked at motorcycles. I'm thinking about buying one, actually." I answered, delivering perhaps what would be just a little too much honesty for what I knew she would like.

"What? Why?" That was a soft line of questioning, all things considered.

"Because I wanted to. I'm interested in getting one." I replied.

That was the wrong answer, apparently.

"Jackson, you know what I think about those. I don't care if you wear a helmet or not, motorcycles are nothing more than expensive death traps. You're just guaranteeing that you're going to get hurt on that thing one way or another and there's no reason in the world that you could ever possibly need something like that." April rambled on emphatically, sitting up straighter in bed. "What in the world are you thinking?" She asked.

"I'm getting old, April." I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Harriet's noticed. I've noticed. The gray hair is just the start. I'm not ready to be old. I just want something a little younger, something to give me a kick back in that direction."

"Jackson, baby," she scooted closer to me. "You don't need a motorcycle to be young. And I'm getting older too. There's nothing wrong with that. The only person in this house who is getting older that I don't want to get older is Harriet, I promise you that much. I don't want you doing something dangerous just because of that, okay? You know how dangerous those things are. You've seen it yourself just how dangerous they are. I don't need you dying in a car accident and Harriet certainly does not need you dying in a car accident either. We both need you. You know that, don't you?" She pleaded.

Another sigh breathed through my nose and I squeezed her hand back in return. "I do know that," I admitted. "I just didn't expect her to be the one to point out my gray hairs, you know? You clearly thought that it was hilarious from the way that you reacted." I reminded her.

"Do you want to know what I really think about your gray hairs?" She asked.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"It's hot." April beamed. "Really, really hot, actually. It's like… having my own personal Joe Manganiello right here in the comfort of my home." She let go of my hand, rubbing up and down the length of my arm. "You look very sexy with some gray hair. Especially with your curls growing out more. I like it. I don't want to change a thing about it."

With my hand released from hers, I reached up to cup her face, running my thumb along the edge of her jaw as I stared into her hazel eyes. She was being honest. She was a terrible liar, the kind that you could catch before she could even open her mouth.

"Do you really think that?" Even knowing that, I still asked.

"Of course." She nodded firmly. "And I'm more than happy to prove it to you, too." She added.

My eyebrows raised up at her, a faint idea of where exactly she was going with it and already liking it. Confirming my thoughts, April leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. I firmed my grip on her, hand moving from her cheek to the nape of her neck so that I could pull her in closer to me.

Holding onto her firmly, the grip only tightened slightly to pull April over onto my lap. She had on a pair of silky pajama shorts and a matching blouse, nothing beneath given the visibility of her nipples appearing through the fabric, and the only thing on me was the towel. That would be easy to get rid of. The weight of her settled on my lap was perfect.

Her arms wrapped around me and her nails raked lightly down the skin of my back, just the way that I liked it. I deepened the kiss between us, tasting the sweetness and the fresh breath on the inside of her mouth. One hand remained wrapped around the base of her neck, but the other moved to her hip, slipping just beneath the silk fabric of her shirt. Taking a firm breast in hand and giving it an appreciative squeeze, I allowed my thumb to brush across her nipple and circle it till it hardened completely, swallowing the moan she released into my mouth.

"God, you're so beautiful." The words are muttered along her skin as our mouths separate, moving down to find the sweet spot on her neck and leave a mark there.

"And you are just as sexy as you've ever been, Jackson." Her hips rolled as she spoke.

Normally, foreplay is something that I don't mind indulging in. I like to tease her and drive her crazy, to hear her beg and say all of those dirty little things that no one else got to hear. There's not much more beautiful than when she's flustered and needy for me.

But this time, I don't want all of that. It might have been sex but it was about more than the physical aspect of it between the two of us. It was about her and me, our relationship, our love. I want to be inside of her and make love to her, to thank her for being who she was, to remind the both of us that at our core, we're just two halves of the same whole.

And I do.

Gripping onto her thighs and wrapping her legs around my waist, I stand up just for a moment to readjust. My towel dropped to the floor and I set her down on the bed so that I was hovering on top of her, quickly pulling off the silky top that she had on. I attack her breasts with my mouth, kissing and sucking, leaving marks that no one else would see except for the two of us. She's noisy, trying to muffle herself with the back of her hand and failing. I don't tease her for long.

The pajama shorts are quickly snagged off and pulled down so that she's completely bare. I pause for just a moment to admire how beautiful she was in the nude. All pale skin and soft curves, freckles scattered across it decorated and accented her perfectly. There was the scar from Harriet's c-section, but even that was so admirable, the strength that the little pink line conveyed. She was amazing. There was no other woman in the world I rather be with.

With a loud groan, I pushed inside of her. She clutched onto me once more and her leg hooked around my backside, allowing me to move deeper inside of her. She felt amazing as always, warm and tight heat engulfing me completely, allowing me to get lost in nothing more than the feel of being inside and on top of her, consuming her entirely.

"God, you feel so good…" I moaned out, burying my face into her neck so that I could continue to kiss along the pale skin there, making sure that freckles were not the only thing that covered her skin.

I hold onto her tight and keep a hand on her hip, eventually stretching out so that a finger could rub at her clit as I moved inside of her. It doesn't take long for her to cry out as an orgasm washed over her. I hold out and keep going, thrusting into her harder than before and continuing to rub at the sensitive nub. It's not until the second orgasm washed over April that I finally let go myself, spilling into her with a few more jerky thrusts. I rested on top of her, barely holding myself up.

"No old man I know could do all of that." April murmured affectionately. I lifted up my head from its place, meeting her lips in another firm kiss. This time, it was a thank you.

"I love you, April." I reminded her.

"I love you too, Jackson."


End file.
